Chicken
by Vampiracy
Summary: Not even that long ago, the thought of doing something even close to this to his best friend had been unthinkable. Now… well, it was amazing how many boundaries were pressed for the sake of competition. OR: Craig and Clyde play gay chicken. A lot.
1. ROUND 1: VS CLYDE

**AN:** Hopefully you guys wanted a whole fic of Craig and Clyde being dorks, because that's what this is and I'm having entirely too much fun writing it. Let me know what you think if you like, and please enjoy!

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><p>"Hey, Craig."<p>

It was all the warning he was given before a hand touched his knee.

Craig stilled immediately at the contact, but paid no attention to the perpetrator. Instead he looked across the living room from his couch to Token and Tweek's, mortified to find them staring.

Then the hand started sliding up his thigh.

"D-Dude!" Craig stammered – he actually fucking stammered – as he hastily shoved Clyde off of him. Clyde didn't mind the rejection. On the contrary he withdrew his arm without complaint, smiling very slowly as he lifted his pointer finger. Craig got his meaning immediately, but was hardly collected enough to scowl.

"What- what just-?!" Tweek looked completely lost.

"No idea," said Token.

Craig only realized as the static in his head began to clear that the TV had been turned off and he was the new focus of attention. Never mind Clyde, whose grin was currently eating more shit than a medically ill terrier; no, they were looking at _him_ for answers. Unfortunately for them, the feeble noise he ended up making when he opened his mouth was hardly informative.

Clyde took this as an invitation for his own input. "I can demonstrate again," he offered, and by way of elaboration, turned to Craig and started leaning over.

"No you can't!" Craig protested heatedly. Literally, he could feel his face heating up. He snapped his eyes shut and turned away, wishing this moment – no, this entire night – no, absolutely _everything_ – out of existence completely.

"Ahem."

No such luck. Craig opened his eyes to see Clyde leaning comfortably back on his side of the couch, now holding up two fingers. "You absolute bastard," Craig groaned. To that, Clyde crossed his arms and threw his head back in a hearty cackle.

"…So." Oh, hell. Token. "Are either of you going to explain why Clyde's being so…"

"Gay?" Clyde asked, sitting back up at once. Underhanded prick had no right to be this exited. "It's gay," he affirmed, smiling over at Craig and giving his shoulder a nudge.

Craig closed his eyes again, but when he opened them they were all still there, judging. Teasing, in Clyde's case, but Craig did his best to ignore him and that sinking feeling he got that he might try to 'demonstrate' again if Craig was silent for too long. That was the last thing he or anyone needed right now. His adversary had already done enough damage, including but not limited to creating this scenario in the first place.

Since this was really happening, and they did need a proper explanation, Craig had to be the one to give it. He needed to take control of this situation; needed to save face where he could. With that decided, Craig took a deep breath to ready himself, then looked up to face Token and Tweek.

"Okay… it's like this."

Actually, it all began the first day of their sophomore year. With Stan and Kyle, of all people.

Not everyone saw them walking hand in hand through the school halls that morning, but by the start of second period, most people had caught wind of it somehow. Everything was confirmed by Kyle himself at lunch where he got into a screaming match with Cartman, loudly proclaimed his love to Stan, and subsequently received detention with him for the excessive PDA that followed. Rumor had it the detention actually worked out quite well for them, too.

Naturally nobody came close to caring about their updated relationship status as much as Cartman, but that didn't mean it wasn't a point of curiosity.

"So, Stan and Kyle, huh?" Clyde had said that weekend while they watched commercials on his couch.

"Yeah," Craig replied. "Eventful summer, I guess."

"Right?" Clyde sat up a little. "How does stuff like that even happen? It's like, they've been best friends since forever and then suddenly: gay." He illustrated this point with his hands, gesturing nonsense before bringing them together. "Can you even imagine?"

Craig glanced over at Clyde to see him continue his illustration by poking his fingers together a couple of times. Then he closed one of his fingers against his thumb to make a circle, turned his wrist around so it was facing the other way, and stared down at this new image with contemplative focus.

"Actually… yes." Craig shifted away from the television and towards him. "Because Clyde," he inclined his head, and lowered his voice too for good measure, "I want you."

Clyde froze just as he'd dared to penetrate his finger through the reverse side of his circle. He turned his head to look at Craig, eyes impossibly wide and mouth falling open. "Wh- wha?"

It was an impulsive, offhanded joke, and it was supposed to be laughed off as such. Maybe Craig hadn't been obvious enough, or maybe Clyde was too distracted by his diagram. Either way, it went clean over his head.

Given the confusion, Craig really didn't think he could be blamed for having a little more fun with it. "I want you so much," he said, looking deep into Clyde's eyes as he moved in closer. He barely made it an arm's length before Clyde flinched and scrambled away.

"Dude!" he exclaimed in very real panic.

Craig pulled back, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as his ruse cracked away. "Your face!" And still Clyde leaned away from him, cautious and confused. Shit, what did he think he was going to do? Craig shook his head, laughing a little more audibly. "Oh man, that was great. Sorry dude, it looks like I win gay chicken."

"…Hey," Clyde said slowly, brain catching up with him at last. "Hey wait, no! That doesn't- I didn't even know we were doing that!"

"It's okay, Clyde. Some of us are secure in our sexuality, others not so much. It's nothing to worry about, really."

Craig could only gloat for so long, though, for Clyde's retaliation was as swift as it was startlingly effective. He pushed away from the safety of his armrest to launch himself at Craig, puckering out his lips absurdly. It wasn't something that should have made Craig's blood run cold, yet there he was, backing right the fuck up into his own armrest and praying for mercy from the vengeful duck-faced duck flying straight for him.

Then Clyde stopped, and Craig realized his mistake.

"Would you look at that?" Clyde said. The smug in his voice was so dense it was dripping. "Looks like it's a draw now."

Craig had cursed at the truth of it. It _had_ ended in a draw that night; a perfectly appropriate time to call it even and call it quits. Which he could have done, easily. At the same time though, Clyde would be the one with the last laugh, and that was something he simply could not allow.

"Bad move, Donovan. It's on."

And now here they were.

"So," Token said, slowly, "you two are locked in a game of gay chicken you started five months ago. Am I understanding this correctly?"

"Yes," Craig said, as coolly as he could manage given the circumstances.

"What are you even playing for?"

"Victory."

"Ngh! Five months? You guys have been having kiss-offs for five _months_?"

"It's not really kiss-offs," Clyde told Tweek. "I mean, it kind of is, but sometimes we just flirt and stuff. If it's gay it counts. Like earlier! When I was doing this," he waggled his eyebrows a couple times as his hand went back to Craig's thigh.

"Will you stop that?!" Craig stood in protest. "Look, up until now we only ever did this in private," he explained, only to realize after the fact how much worse that might sound. Might and definitely did, from the way their rays of judgment now hit him even harder. Rather than just standing there and taking it, he turned his frustrations down to Clyde. "This is why it's supposed to be _private_!"

"I don't remember that rule."

"It was implied!"

Clyde yawned loudly and stretched out his arms wide before folding them behind his head. Then he kicked his feet up on Craig's spot on the couch and smiled at him. "Whatever man, all I know is that I have three more points – because that totally counted just now. Watch yourself," he winked, "I'm catching up."

"You're _winning_?!" Tweek asked Craig in disbelief.

"Of course he is," Token said blankly.

"Ten-eleven," Clyde informed.

"I guess it's not that much, for five months anyway," Tweek said to Token.

…What they didn't know didn't hurt them.

But, fitting right in with the rest of the night, Clyde opened his mouth and ruined it. "Oh, no man it resets by the month. The overall score is two-three. Soon to be three-three," he added with a sly glance Craig's way.

Goddamnit, Clyde.

"Wait," Tweek said, mind working quickly. "T-ten-eleven?! You guys, it's only the sixth!"

"Okay, that's it for me," Token said, standing. "Good night, everybody."

"Don't kick me out Token, please, I don't want to walk home with them! What if they keep playing? What if they make _me_ play?!"

Token paused. "Okay, Tweek can stay."

"What, really?" Clyde sat up. "Come on guys, it's no homo. Don't be so no homo-phobic!"

"Aah! I'm not!" Tweek said with sudden worry.

"I just need a night to come to terms with the kinds of people I keep as friends, and adjust," said Token.

Clyde opened his mouth to protest further, but Craig grabbed his arm and pulled him up before he could do any more damage. "Come on, it's getting late anyway. We should just go." Honestly, Craig was relieved. The sooner they were out of here the better.

"Fine, fine," Clyde said, holding up his hands. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Bye gays- GAH! I mean guys!" Tweek twitched horribly. "Bye _guys_!"

Craig shoved his hands in his pockets, as deep as they could go. "Yeah, see you," he muttered as he turned to follow Clyde out, his slow, long strides keeping up with Clyde's short and lively ones. When they made it outside of the warmth of the estate was when Craig ironically started feeling less stiff. He needed a good burst of cold air right now, for what he had to deal with.

"I'm going to give you a chance to explain yourself."

"Oh man, that was _awesome_," Clyde said emphatically as he swaggered through the front gate. "You should have seen you! Sooo fucking embarrassed! Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen you so red. It looks good on you," he taunted.

"You're pretty confident for someone who had to cheat to catch up, and _still_ isn't winning," Craig reminded as they hit the sidewalk.

"Cheating, strategy; tomato, tomato," Clyde said.

"You know that you're supposed to say them differently when you use that expression, right?"

"Okay, let me try again: tomato, your face five minutes ago." He grinned proudly. Idiot. "I found your weakness dude, and it's PDA. So did you want to forfeit now, or…?"

So maybe it was true, and maybe he wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of fake gay affection. Craig was well aware that it was a stupid game before Tweek and Token's reception, but that was kind of the whole point of it: dumb, competitive fun. They were just messing around, and that's what made it so entertaining. That and the fact that he and Clyde were on relatively equal footing, at least in general. After everything that happened tonight, the scales had now tipped in Clyde's favor.

Which reminded him. "Clyde, you seem to be forgetting something."

"Ha, okay. What?"

Craig spun on his heel and seized the front of Clyde's collar, stopping them both in their tracks between the streetlights. Clyde's breath hitched vaguely in response, but Craig didn't want to alarm him into retreat. No surprises, and no tricks. He kept his eyes level on Clyde's, keeping their physical contact to a deliberate minimum as he moved in. At least until he brushed his lips against his ear. Clyde was playing with fire, after all, and he needed reminding.

"Right now, we're alone."

Craig loosened his grip on Clyde's collar, then released it entirely as he streaked his hand against his chest. He could feel his opponent's frigid stillness, and it warmed him to the very core. Victory was a sweet sensation, but the assuring moments leading up to it were sweeter.

"You sure you want to do this?" Clyde fronted as he recovered somewhat, inching closer. Rough hands fell against Craig's hips but hesitated to travel beyond them, confirming what Craig already knew: he'd thrown Clyde off his game.

Now, a step further.

He opened his mouth not to respond, but to take the very edge of Clyde's ear between his teeth and nibble it delicately.

Craig's reward was a strained, satisfying as all hell gasp. Did he realize his predicament now? He almost felt sorry for him. Clyde could plead for mercy at any time, though; all he had to do was take a single step back and Craig would graciously grant it. Since he didn't, it was time to go in for the kill.

Craig pulled his teeth away from Clyde's ear but left his tongue, trailing it in a descent along his jaw and keeping it slow. At the same time he moved his hand away from Clyde's chest to put it over one of his hands, grasping it firmly to keep it in place – and to guide it down his own pants.

Not even that long ago, the thought of doing something even close to this to his best friend had been unthinkable. Now… well, it was amazing how many boundaries were pressed for the sake of competition.

"Fuck," Clyde managed feebly as Craig felt one of his hands let go of him and the other attempt to pull out of his pants. Craig allowed it, releasing his grip and freeing Clyde to step back and witness his final gesture – because for all his advances, Craig still had one hand entirely free, and thought it only prudent to ready an appropriate greeting for the loser.

"Jesus Christ dude," Clyde wiped his hand fervently on his pant leg like Craig's hip bone gave him gay cooties, "that was- hey! Rude!" he objected when he looked up.

"See this?" Craig smirked as he held his middle finger higher; more in his face. "This is my newest point."

Clyde let out a huff of hot air. "Shove it up your ass," he retorted.

"How about yours?" Craig replied in a low voice, and with a much quicker wit than he was usually capable of. It gave him a sudden surge of confidence that he channeled to his hands as they reached out and grabbed the ass in question.

"Dude!" Clyde shrieked and shoved him away at once. Then comprehension dawned and his shoulders sank. "…Dude."

Craig wanted to laugh, but didn't; it would make it more poignant when he pulled back both of his hands in tandem, now displaying twin obscenities. "Hey Clyde, look how many points I have now."

"Eat a-!" Clyde started, but his eyes flickered in the abrupt realization that more crude language would only drive him into the very same trap he'd just fallen in. "…Pie."

This time Craig did start to laugh, but it steadily died down as he found himself considering this. "I think I actually want pie now."

"Sucker," Clyde snickered, taking the shred of triumph where he could, but only for a moment before he too slipped into a frown. "Me too…"

Craig started walking again and pulled out his phone as Clyde fell into step beside him. "It's almost ten."

"Shit, really?" Clyde leaned over to look at his phone. "I guess Token didn't just kick us out for being not-gay. Hey, can you update the score? Ten-twelve."

"Thirteen," Craig corrected, tapping open his and Clyde's shared document where they did all of their scorekeeping.

"Oh, right. Dick," Clyde said fondly.

"Pussy," Craig responded in kind. "Where is your strategy now?"

"Oh, I'm not worried," Clyde said, so dismissively that Craig felt his confidence shake. He wasn't? After all that? "I'll see you at school tomorrow, right?" Clyde asked, eyeing him keenly.

Craig looked back, wary of the implications. He... "You wouldn't."

Clyde hummed. "I guess we'll see."

Well.

Shit.


	2. ROUND 2: VS CRAIG

**AN: **Ahhh, thank you for the wonderful feedback you guys! I'm glad you like it, because crap, this chapter turned out way longer and just as if not more ridiculous than the last, like. I don't even know. But, gonna go ahead and say 4 chapters total for this one. That's my number and I'm sticking to it this time. Anyway, thanks for reading, and please enjoy round two!

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><p>The next day Clyde took the lead, and kept it from there on out. Shit, if points were currency he could probably spare a few to get Craig a much needed white flag for the way he was absolutely <em>taking<em> it.

It was a bold move, playing the game in the presence of Tweek and Token, and one that could have easily backfired. Clyde knew he had to do something drastic to keep up with Craig though, because yes, he _had_ been falling more and more behind, and yes, Craig _was_ a little better at gay chicken than Clyde. Just a little, nothing more! The guy was like an impassive robot that did not get weirded out easily, okay? At least not as easily as Clyde did.

Tweek and Token, though. Clyde still remembered when he and Craig were waiting for them to hang out a few weeks ago, flirting to kill time. Nothing too extreme, just gooey as shit stuff to see who would screw it up by laughing first. Both of them were going strong, but then the door opened and Craig started laughing very abruptly and turned to greet Tweek and Token before anyone could say a thing about it. It was like it was in his programming to automatically fail on purpose when there was someone else in the room.

That's when Clyde knew how to get him. Working up the courage to had been another thing entirely, but then he got another godsend the following week in the form of Token calling him an idiot.

Oh it was definitely an insult on the _surface_, but it made Clyde realize: wasn't he? Was he not Clyde Donovan, the guy who was often thought of as no less than a _complete retard_? Which Clyde always thought was taking it kind of far, like, he knew he wasn't the sharpest bulb in the sky, but.

Anyway it was an unfortunate but kind of accurate part of who he was, or at least the way other people saw him, so why not own it? People thought he was a dumbass, yeah, but then they hung out with him anyway so obviously it wasn't a deal breaker. Clyde had nothing to lose by exposing the game, while Craig? Cool, calm, collected Craig? He had eeeeverything to lose.

Tweek and Token could give him all their looks, roll all their eyes, and pass all their judgments, but Clyde didn't care. An idiot he may be, but this idiot had a bitch and his name was Craig Tucker.

Clyde made good on his threat to take their game to the school, but he didn't overdo it. He wasn't that cruel – or confident, for that matter – so he kept his advances circumstantial and strategic rather than giving Craig bad touches in front of the school at large.

Not that he was above tempting fate, because sometimes history class was just way too boring.

While their teacher droned on, Clyde glanced at the clock and then over at Craig, only a desk away. He was tapping his pencil on his desk and staring blankly at the board, so Clyde silently tore off a piece of notebook paper and wrote on the top of it.

_What are you wearing?_

Good, good. He folded it up and passed it over, watching carefully from the corner of his eye as Craig opened it.

Craig's eyes dashed across the short message but he continued to stare, dumbfounded. Clyde noted with amusement that he actually looked down at his own coat before he started writing back. What a loser.

Then he passed the note back to Clyde, and holy shit.

_A thong._

Was he really? Clyde couldn't help it, he looked. He couldn't see anything though; Craig's chair and then his coat got in the way. Then Craig caught his eye and gave him a crooked, knowing smile. That basta- wait, no, bitch. _His_ bitch.

He scribbled back.

_Hott. Prove it if you dare_

While Clyde passed the note to Craig, he tried to picture him in a thong. He then had to clamp his hand over his mouth and sink lower in his seat because crap, laughing was losing. To compose himself he took a second to try and pay attention to Mr. Hansen, going on about who knows what war who knows when.

It didn't even take a minute for Clyde's boredom to start creeping back, so when he glanced back over at Craig he was happy to see the note folded at the corner of his desk. He swiped it quickly.

_Maybe later if you're good._

Clyde bit his lip. See, this is why this was so much fun. But wait, there was more.

_What are *you* wearing?_

Clyde paused at the question and looked down at himself before answering.

_Commando baby!_

Was it true? Nah. But it was interesting, just like Craig's thong thing. Speaking of Craig- was that a muffled chuckle? Clyde eyed him carefully, but only caught him evening out a smile as he started to write back. Well that was fine; he didn't want to have to quit so soon anyway, even if it would have meant him getting another easy win.

_Nice and easy huh?_

Clyde grinned.

_Just for you Cray bae_

That's right, he was bustin' out the endearments. Clyde passed the note back to Craig and kept an eye on him all the while, eager for his reaction. Then Craig unfolded it, and-

"Craig, Clyde, are you passing notes?" asked Mr. Hansen.

"No!" Craig said hastily, crunching the note up in his hands. Clyde gaped in horror at the dead giveaway, eyes flashing between his friend and his teacher.

"Why don't you come up here and share that with the rest of the class?" It didn't sound like a suggestion.

Craig shot a quick, fearful glance at Clyde, who had absolutely nothing to offer beyond the shared dread of their impending doom.

"Well?" Mr. Hansen demanded.

Clyde could only watch as Craig got out of his seat and began a slow funeral march to the front of the class. Not a sound was made, save for the crinkling of the note as he pulled it open. Then he stopped next to Mr. Hansen up front and turned around, eyes meeting Clyde's.

"Mr. Tucker, you hurry up and read that note aloud before I confiscate it and do it myself!"

They both felt it; he may as well have been tightening a noose right there and then. Craig's eyes narrowed a little while Clyde gave a small, desperate shake of his head. Craig only sighed, looked down at the note, and took a deep breath.

Then shoved it straight down the front of his pants.

Clyde could breathe again. Holy shit. That goddamn hero!

"Okay," Craig said, crossing his arms in challenge. "Go ahead. Confiscate it."

Mr. Hansen got red in the face while his students started to laugh all around him. "Is this a game to you, Mr. Tucker? Maybe you and Mr. Donovan can learn the importance of paying attention in class when you're catching up on today's lesson in detention."

Clyde stopped laughing just after he'd managed to start. "Aww…"

"Go to the principal's office, Craig," their teacher continued. "You need to learn a thing or two about proper conduct in the cla- did you just flip me off?!"

Craig had, but he didn't answer. Shit, he was already gone. Clyde watched as the door swung shut, and nodded his head in salute. Then, stealthily, he got out his phone and held it under his desk. He might be tempting fate again, but he was pretty good at not getting caught so he navigated to the score document and added a point for Craig. Mr. Hansen had just lost to him after all, and Clyde decided that points were transferable in special situations.

Plus, he was kind of worried Craig would be mad at him for getting him into trouble. By the time detention rolled around it proved not to be much of a concern though, and Clyde could only smile at the note he was passed.

_What are you wearing now?_

Sometimes Craig really was the best.

Well, second best, but Clyde made sure to let him know that the next morning.

"What's this?" Clyde said, looking at the score on his phone. "I'm leading by five points? That can't be right- oh wait, _it is_."

"Seriously?" Token peered over Clyde's shoulder as the two of them leaned against the lockers. "How are you only ahead by five? You've been crushing him all week."

"Hmph," Craig grunted from behind his open locker.

"That _we've_ seen," Tweek pointed out. He and Token looked over at Craig's locker, which remained open.

"I've done what I had to," he remarked flatly from behind it.

"Clearly!" Tweek exclaimed before he rounded on Clyde. "What does he _do_ to you? Wait, don't answer that! I don't want to know."

"Why don't you just take the lead again?" Token meanwhile suggested to Craig. "Come on, we already know you're into this just as much as Clyde. Quit worrying about us and get a win, dude."

"Hey, whose side are you on?" Clyde asked, because what the hell, Craig didn't need to go getting ideas!

Token shrugged. "If you're going to keep doing your gay things in front of us anyway, it may as well be more interesting than you winning all the time. Besides, the sooner we're ineffective, the sooner you'll quit using us."

Craig finally shut his locker, looking at Token seriously for a few seconds before he shifted the look to Tweek.

"Argh!" was his initial response, but he did calm down after a few more twitches. "H-He is getting a little full of himself."

Those traitors! Clyde shoved his phone into his pocket and looked around, because there was no way Craig would do anything right here in the middle of the hall surrounded by- absolutely no one else but the four of them, apparently. How craptacular.

Then Craig turned to _him_, with the ghost of a smile that became more carnal by the second.

"You think you got this?" Clyde challenged, mostly to let Craig know that he wasn't going to be bested easily. He put his books on top of the lockers. You don't just get over being self-conscious with a few words, okay; Craig would _not_ win him over.

Craig let his own book bag drop to the floor and licked his lips slowly. "I might." He moved in, entire demeanor shifting and oh shit. This was Craig's game face, and Craig's game face was _predatory_.

"Gah!" Tweek shrieked, "I didn't mean you should rape him! Oh god!"

Damnit! Did they really expect him to lose just like that? No, no way! This was _his_ court, so he boldly advanced to the intimate zone, looking up at Craig. Curse his single inch of height superiority. It didn't matter though, because, "if anyone's doing the raping here, it's me."

"Nuh uh," Craig said, "'cause you can't rape the willing!"

Clyde paused. "Huh?"

Craig faltered. "I didn't mean- I mean, you won't be able to rape me because I'm not backing off, so that makes me the willing," he explained.

"Oh. Well then you can't rape me either!"

"Oh my god," Token said from somewhere in the sidelines, sounding exasperated, "Never mind, I'm sorry I ever encouraged you. Jesus. Can we just call this one a draw and go to class?"

At this Craig hesitated once again, and therein Clyde saw his chance. He took Craig's face in his hands. "It's too late for that," he told Token while he gazed into his rival's eyes. Craig stared back, and Clyde saw him begin to steel his uncertainty which meant he needed to act fast. He pushed onward by connecting their lips in a blunt kiss.

Craig actually staggered a little, but grabbed Clyde around his back to keep them together. Damn, so the surprise attack didn't work. That was still okay though, because as classic as the kissing version of the game was, this was the first time they'd kissed in front of _anybody_ so let's just see how long Craig would last under the circumstances. And since he was pretty easily overwhelmed, Clyde didn't give him the chance to relax into anything before he pried his tongue into his mouth.

Craig's tongue was limp and unmoving against his, but that suited Clyde just fine. He coaxed it this way and that as he embarked in pre-discovered territory, replanting his saliva-flags where he could before Craig wussed out and kicked him out because believe it or not, _kissing_ was actually a pretty big weakness of his too.

Craig hung in there though, and even started to give back in the form of a couple of small wriggles that effectively did nothing. To show him this, Clyde delved deeper. Sorry Craig, but in this tongue battle for dominance, Clyde was forever and always the victor.

Or so he thought until a pair of hands scraped against his back, forcing his shirt and coat to ride up as they pressed demandingly against his bare skin. Clyde froze right in the middle of doing that one thing with his tongue, failing to realize until it was too late that that's exactly what Craig had been counting on.

He hadn't been trying to win the battle at all – it was a distraction! And now Craig was pressing Clyde against him and running his hands over his back, and then to add insult to insult he turned the tongue-tables by infiltrating his mouth, and Clyde tried not to whimper but he fucking _did_ because while kissing was mostly Craig's weakness, touching was Clyde's.

"You- you guys!"

Not in general! Clyde could cozy up to all of the ladies, aiight? And they could _definitely_ cozy up to him all they wanted, and just for the record, yeah baby they _wanted_. Go ahead, ask anyone! He was awesome at touching.

"_Ngh_! Guys!"

It was just Craig that made his knees weak. Not- fuck- not in a legit gay way! It was because he was a _dude_, and he was _Craig_, and he might not think it was as weird as Clyde did but it was still _weird_ and made him feel all weird and honestly made him forfeit prematurely a shitload of times before he got too- well- the point was it was weird, okay? The reason didn't matter!

"Hammer time? ...No? Aah! Why isn't anything working?!"

But just because it was weird didn't mean Craig was going to get to win this one. No way! So Craig could – _ahh_ – touch him all he wanted, because after Clyde's short lapse he took his tongue into overdrive to take back control, and he _knew_ it was working when Craig's hands sort of twitched before their devil magic continued, and-

"_GUYS_!"

Clyde was then forcibly pulled away from Craig, and what the hell? He was _just_ turning it back around! That had _better_ not count as a loss! Clyde craned his neck to get a glimpse of Token as he tugged him back. "What gives?" he demanded.

Token didn't respond, but he did let go. Annoyed but confused, Clyde took this opportunity to tug down his shirt and jacket and look back at Craig just as Tweek released him. Craig had traces of irritation on his face too, but they faded as he started looking elsewhere. His eyes became ominously wide instead, and Clyde could only follow his gaze to see two other people standing together on the other side of the locker bay, mouths hanging open.

Clyde wondered if this was what going into shock was like.

"…So," Kyle started, in an awkward attempt to break the even more awkward silence.

Stan just looked between Craig and Token, completely perplexed.

"Hey, don't look at me," Token said, stepping away. "This is what they do now."

Then the bell rang for class, and Tweek grabbed his hair. "Jesus, I'm late!" he gasped, shortly before he fled away.

"Yeah me too, I should probably…" Token excused himself.

Clyde watched as their friends abandoned them, while Craig's focus was on Stan and Kyle. "You weren't supposed to see that," he said, obviously.

"Stan forgot his textbook," said Kyle.

"You guys are gay?" Stan asked more plainly.

Clyde blinked and looked over at Craig, comforted to see him looking back at him, just as lost.

"Wow," Kyle said, before either of them had the chance to respond. "Of all the people… well, I guess since it's you guys it makes sense, but still. Wow. We thought it was just us."

"You can't tell anyone," Clyde blurted. Token and Tweek were one thing, but the whole school? Oh god, no. "_Please_."

Stan and Kyle shared a look, and Clyde was vaguely aware of the glare Craig sent his way. Clyde frowned and backtracked, trying to figure out what would have made him so- oh! That was it, he hadn't said anything about- so Stan and Kyle actually thought- got it. Clyde tried to work out the best thing to say to clear it up, but Kyle beat him to the punch.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with us," he assured, with a strangely excited smile. "It's okay if you're not ready. You could have told us, though! It's nice knowing you're not alone… you know? It's funny, we were actually just talking about this."

"You… were?" Clyde asked skeptically, looking from Kyle to Stan. Talking about what?

"Yeah, kinda," Stan said. "We were actually just talking about, uh," another glance at Kyle, "how it'd be cool if we knew anyone to go on, like. A double date with." He spoke as though he wasn't sure how he liked the taste of the words. Kyle, however, brightened with enthusiasm.

"What are you doing Saturday?"

"Tomorrow Saturday?" Clyde asked.

"Yeah," Kyle nodded. "We could-"

"No," Craig cut in harshly. Clyde glanced over, and saw his discomfort immediately. Then he slowly looked back to Stan and Kyle. ...Hm. "Why would we ever want to-"

"We'll do it," Clyde interrupted, putting on a very large smile. To hell with caution. "Right, Craigy-kins?"

Craig glared again. "Can I talk to you."

It wasn't a request. Craig grabbed his arm and pulled, nay, _dragged_ Clyde down the hall and away from the lockers entirely. Uh. "B-R-B!" Clyde called to a confused Stan and Kyle as he and Craig disappeared around the corner.

Then Craig pushed him against the wall. "What are you _doing_," he hissed, leaning in. This might intimidate most people because, well, it was _Craig_, but it was for that very reason that Clyde wasn't really bothered at all. In fact, he was feeling quite confident.

"What's the matter, Craig?" he asked deviously. "Not straight enough to go on a gay date with me in front of other people?"

Craig turned red. "I'm straight like a ruler!" he retorted. "But… don't you think, at this point, we might be taking it a _little_ too far?"

"That's the whole point of the game," Clyde said, "who can take it further. But, you might be right." Craig relaxed. "Just to be clear here," Clyde went on, "what you're saying is you'd rather not because it'd make you uncomfortable, right? Because you're…" Clyde reached into his pocket and thumbed his phone, maintaining eye contact with Craig. "Chicken?"

And like the trigger of an explosive, Craig all of a sudden seized Clyde's wrist and slammed it on the wall above his head, keeping it pinned there as he attacked his neck with his mouth and teeth. Clyde took in a sharp breath and pressed his back hard against the wall, but since it was a wall, it offered no escape so he pulled his hand out of his pocket and shoved Craig away instead.

Craig accepted this and released him immediately, calmly stepping back to mock Clyde with his eyes while Clyde wiped his neck and tugged up his collar. A few times. Shit, that was humiliating.

"Point, Craig."

"Well," Clyde started, somewhat dizzily because he could still feel the fire on his neck. He decided to wait until he got a better hold of himself and started again. "Well you won't go on a date with Stan and Kyle! That just makes it even."

"You think so?" And then Craig was grabbing his wrist _again_ so Clyde frantically tried to prepare himself for another assault, but it proved to not be necessary because instead of making a move Craig dragged him down the hall, around the corner, and back to the locker bay with Stan and Kyle.

"We're in," Craig said. "So. Dinner and a movie?"

Kyle smiled easily. "Let's do it!"

"Let's just do dinner," Stan said. "Everything in theaters now is just…" he let it trail off at that though, after a look of warning from Kyle. "We can go someplace nicer instead, outside of South Park. Do you guys need a ride?" he asked.

"That'd be cool," Clyde said, remembering that he'd gotten a car over winter break. Lucky bastard. Enjoy it while you can Stan; his birthday was just a couple months away, and then he'd get a car too. Probably one with more than two doors. Anyway, "what time?"

"We can figure that out later," Kyle said. "Class started a few minutes ago, so we'll text? Where did you guys want to- no, no; we'll text," he said again, clutching his books a little tighter and turning to run off for class. "Come on, Stan!"

Craig looked at Stan. "He's been wanting to double date for a while, huh?"

"You have no idea." Stan looked over his shoulder. "I'll see you guys tomorrow I guess," he said, adjusting the newly acquired textbook in his hand and excusing himself to trail after Kyle.

Once they were gone, Craig gave Clyde a sidelong glance. "Want to skip class?"

Clyde knew he probably shouldn't, but, "yeah."

Craig opened his locker once again and bent down to pick up his bag, still on the floor. Clyde briefly entertained the idea of dry humping him, but there would be plenty of time for that later, so he swiped his own books from the top of the locker bay where he'd left them.

"Hey, do you mind if I…?" Clyde gestured. Craig nodded and stepped aside once he'd put his things away. "Sweet," Clyde said. His locker was way over on the other side of the hall and closer to the classrooms, so this was just easier.

"I can't believe I'm going on a date with you tomorrow," Craig said. "With Stan and Kyle. For one point."

Clyde thought about this as he mixed his books in with Craig's. That did seem kind of low for what he'd committed them to, he could admit. So maybe… "Want to make it more interesting?" he asked, stepping back once he'd finished.

"Yeah?" Craig asked curiously, reaching over to push his locker shut.

"Dude, we're so pro at this that Stan and Kyle think we're _actually_ gay." This wasn't new information, just a restatement to truly marvel at the fact. "We should make the date worth a whole _lot_ of points. Like, we should make the date worth a whole _month_," Clyde said, realizing how perfect that was as he said it. Oh man… in just one night he could make it even again; three-three. Then at the end of the month it would be four-three, and _he'd_ be the undisputed champion. He looked at Craig hopefully, and was thrilled to see him actually considering it.

"What are the rules?" Craig asked finally.

"There are no rules," Clyde said at once.

Another pause. "Okay, so here are the rules: no bailing, for any reason."

That was reasonable. "Okay."

"No telling them what's going on."

"Duh."

"No scoring any individual points for the month tomorrow; it doesn't count."

"Only the date," Clyde agreed. "The main thing is that they don't realize we're not a couple. Whoever gives it away is the loser."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Craig nodded.

"But other than that there are no rules," Clyde tried again.

This time Craig smiled slyly. "None."

"Nice," Clyde snickered. Craig was gonna- wait. "The no bailing thing – what if there's like, some kind of emergency?"

"We can bail if it's an emergency," Craig assured.

"Okay, good," said Clyde. He didn't think there was anything else- wait! "Dude I just thought of something. Kyle and Stan are legitimately gay and wanted to double date us like right away – what if they're trying to lure us into some kind of freaky foursome?!"

Craig paled. "That counts as an emergency."

"Good," Clyde breathed a sigh of relief.

"…You don't really think that's what's going on here, do you?"

"Probably not I guess, but who knows how gay guys work?" Clyde shrugged. "So since that's it for rules, are you excited for our date?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Watch yourself Clyde, you're going down."

"Only if you pay for dinner."

"They're paying," Craig said, suddenly very serious about that. "They owe me $100."

"Still?"

"Yep."

"Hey, make them let us copy their homework too," Clyde said, remembering they were skipping so took the liberty of leading them sneakily down the hall. As he stopped at the corner to make sure the coast was clear, he heard Craig snicker behind him. "What?" he asked.

"Stan and Kyle are in our class, and we're not showing up," Craig said. "I bet you they'll think we're skipping to write each other poetry or _make love_ or do other gay boyfriend things like that."

"Oh my god," Clyde laughed, trying to be mindful that he wasn't _too_ loud, but that was really fucking funny. "Those morons."

"I know."

They continued to snicker all throughout their escape, but as Clyde beckoned Craig to follow him out the nearest exit, thoughts of the date started to fill his mind.

It was a brilliant plan – he should know, he came up with it – but for Craig to agree, he must genuinely believe that he had a chance. Whatever Craig might pull out of his sleeve tomorrow, he had to trump it. No matter the cost. The stakes had never been higher, and Clyde could not lose.


	3. ROUND 3: VS STYLE

**AN:** Hey guys! Okay, first of all, again thank you so much for all the comments! Gah. Srsly. To everyone whose favorited and followed and read this thing too, it really keeps me inspired so thank you! Maaan, sorry this update took so long, but hey it's longer again so hopefully that pleases and sparkles. So here it is: the date. Hope you enjoy reading it! Round three, go!

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><p>Craig could not lose. He was not playing this game to lose.<p>

Clyde thought he could get to him through a gay date with Stan and Kyle? Well the joke was on him, because Craig gave way more shits about what his actual friends thought over those two ass bandits. Besides, they were the ones who were going to look stupid once this whole ordeal was over for thinking they were actually gay in the first place, or for however long it took for Clyde to slip up.

And he would slip up.

Craig had a plan, you see; a plan he had fashioned just as carefully as he was now fashioning his hair in front of the mirror. There was just one thing missing, but when he heard his door open, he knew he had it. The final piece.

"Craig, I found my shirt."

"Perfect."

"If you say so," his sister said, rolling it up and tossing it over. "You know it's going to be really tight on you, right?"

"Even better." Craig caught it and pulled it carefully over his head, then took a minute to appreciate his new reflection. The white shirt had a pink outline of Hello Kitty, and fit in excellently with his newly acquired pink jeans and white converse. To complete the ensemble he went to his desk and retrieved two relics: a pink jacket that now barely passed his waist and was probably impossible to zip shut if he wanted to, and matching plastic shutter shades to accessorize.

Craig spun back to the doorway and spread his arms wide, or at least as wide as the jacket would allow. "Well?"

"Are you asking me how gay you look?"

"Obviously." Craig crossed his arms, pleased that he could at least do that with relative ease. It was simple. Clyde wanted a gay boyfriend? Clyde would get a gay boyfriend. A gayer boyfriend than he could possibly handle. Let _him_ know the meaning of embarrassment for a change – and the best part? Clyde would have no choice but to deal with it, not unless he wanted to get served in a full course meal as the metaphorical entrée that was _chicken_.

It was a brilliant scheme, and one he'd let his sister in on in exchange for the use of her shirt, so the least she could do was appreciate his genius. "Clyde is going to look like such an asshole," he boasted.

"Clyde is, uh huh." She held up her phone.

Craig narrowed his eyes. "Are you taking a picture?"

"No," she said with all the innocence of an imp as she kept the phone level.

Craig huffed and stalked to his door to shut it in her face, but the ring of a doorbell drew his attention to the stairs. It was about that time, wasn't it. "You're lucky I have to go."

"Mhmm. Have fun on your date!"

"Maybe I will!" he called as she scampered away before he shut his door and headed downstairs.

It wasn't Clyde at his front door but Stan and Kyle, but Craig was all right with that because he didn't think there was a price tag for the looks they gave him. It was like he was caught kissing Clyde in the lockers all over again, except for Craig was actually in control of this situation, which was pretty sweet.

He made a point to look down his nose at their typical winter jackets. "And here I thought we were going out."

"We are," Kyle said, looking him up and down for a second time. "…Really?"

Stan just stared. "Can you believe that yesterday I kind of had my doubts about you being gay? Because I can't."

Craig decided to take that as a compliment, and as evidence that he was already winning. "You could always ask my boyfriend," he said, pleased with how natural he was able to make that sound. "Actually, we should probably go get him either way. Come on."

Craig started down the sidewalk to Clyde's, making sure Kyle and Stan were close behind. It was like leading the way to an ambush that only he knew about, and damn if his pulse didn't quicken at the thought. Once they reached the next house over he stepped forward, knocked, and allowed himself a wicked smile. Clyde had _no idea_ what was about to hit him.

Then the door flew out, and all of Craig's preconceived notions with it.

"_Honey_!"

The next thing Craig knew he was engulfed in a fierce, cushy hug, with his only forewarning a blur of-

Wait.

…Pink?

Craig grabbed Clyde's shoulders and stepped back because _no_, there was just _no way_, but then he saw what he saw and his true horror was realized. And his brilliant plan was way less impactful when Clyde was doing the _same fucking thing_.

No joke; this hotshot asshole was in strict magenta head to toe, from a fitted jacket that was only mostly zipped up with no apparent shirt underneath, to jeans that rivaled Craig's in skinny, to platform shoes that gave him the marginal height advantage over the two. _Bastard_.

Clyde finished his inspection just as Craig finished his, with his own surprise evident behind tinted shades. Then he bit his lip and his shoulders started to shake, and it was clear he wasn't nearly as offended by their matching outfits if he dared to find it _funny_. It was not funny. Craig worked really hard on this, and he wasn't supposed to be so effectively countered by this- this travesty!

"Ohhhh, see now it makes more sense," said Stan.

"It does?" Kyle asked in disbelief.

"It totally does." Clyde straightened and smiled at Craig. "You look great, babe. Now I get why you told me to wear this!" he exclaimed, loud and cheerful.

The air all at once shifted, and Craig bristled. He could practically feel the stares burning into the back of his head, and fuck, how did Clyde keep doing that, deflecting the negative attention from himself and pinning it all on him?

Clyde must have read his mind, because he chose that moment to show his teeth in a conniving yet brief smile. "Oh my rainbows, I almost forgot! Just give me one second," he said, then left them at his doorstep in a silence that didn't last.

"You tell him what to wear?"

No one asked you, Stan, go to hell. "When he asks for my opinion, yes," Craig improvised. "Don't you guys like to impress each other?" It was a weak attempt to turn it around, and by some miracle, it actually worked. Craig looked over his shoulder just in time to see them sharing an uncertain glance, at least before they caught him looking; then they moved instantly closer together. It was almost interesting, but Craig had other bullshit to deal with right now.

"_Baaaack_!" the aforementioned bullshit sang, reappearing in the doorway with a bouquet of roses that he held out proudly. "For you."

Craig stared, honestly too stunned to do anything more. It was just one indignity after another.

"What up, bae? You like them, right?" Clyde asked, eyes wide, hopeful, and absolutely rotten. Ugh, could neither of them see how much he was faking?

"Of course," Craig managed through gritted teeth as he took the flowers, because what else could he do? "I _love_ them." Or say?

He really shouldn't have agreed to this date.

"Well… are we ready to go?" asked Stan.

"I think so. Are we?" Clyde took a step closer, frowning. "You look a little hot. And I don't just mean your rockin' bod that I do regularly," he said as he put his palm against Craig's forehead. "Are you sure you want to go out tonight?"

Craig narrowed his eyes. It was like that, was it? "_Absolutely_." He didn't know whether he wanted to thank Clyde or throttle him still, but Craig found his resolve. "If I feel warm, it's just because you are driving me crazy. And I haven't had the chance to do this yet." With his free hand he grabbed the back of Clyde's neck and pulled him into the first kiss he'd ever actually initiated. It was nothing he'd planned on, but at this point he was fairly certain that planning was out the window – and he needed a way to show Clyde he still meant business.

A message well received, from Clyde's astonishment as he pulled away.

"Convinced?" Craig asked, resting his hand on his hip.

Clyde ran his thumb across his lip, then inclined his head in challenge. "I guess so."

The clearing of a throat turned Craig's attention back to Stan and Kyle, who were giving them strange looks. Crap. "Well, are we going?" he asked pointedly.

"Yeah, we probably should," Kyle said, glancing at Stan shortly before the two of them turned. "Come on, Stan's car is over here."

"Yeah." Stan pulled out his keys. "You have to push the front seat forward to get to the back; here…"

Once they all got situated and hit the road, Clyde rested his head on Craig's shoulder in the back seat and sighed contently. Craig kept his scowl strictly internal. "What am I supposed to do with a bunch of roses?" he asked in a sour whisper as the other halves of their double date fiddled with the radio.

"I'm not sure," Clyde whispered back amid devious nuzzling. "I'm not the bitch."

Actually Clyde was the one cuddling _him_ so he absolutely was, but before he could properly tell him this, Kyle looked back.

"So you guys are way more… open than we expected, for being closeted and all," he said, a definite hint of question to his tone.

"Well you guys found out, didn't you?" Clyde sighed heavily and lifted his head from Craig's shoulder, opting to press their faces together instead. "It's hard enough to hide how we feel about each other at school, so when we don't _have_ to…"

"Yeah," Craig said in a strained voice, and not just because he could feel Clyde's cheek rubbing against his own. "Exactly."

"Then it's a good thing we're getting out of town," Stan said, with a considerably brighter attitude which put Craig even more on edge. He'd been under the impression that this date was at least ninety percent Kyle with Stan only going along with it grudgingly, serving as a good counterpart to Craig in that respect. If Stan was getting into it though…

Craig remained mostly silent for the rest of the car ride, contributing only small pieces to the conversation. Stan's cheer only escalated, steering Craig to the conclusion that he needed to make himself lighten up too. The last thing he wanted to do was look suspicious. Well, act suspicious. He _looked_ fabulous, Clyde just tripped him up by looking almost as good.

But forget that. Craig _needed_ to win, so it was time to start fresh. Not just tonight, but in general. His win the month prior had been a big one, and somewhere in it he'd gotten comfortable; forgotten Clyde was an actual threat. Hard enough to believe right now with the way he kept taking selfies next to him, but considering everything that's happened, it wasn't a mistake he could afford to keep making.

That decided, when they made it to their destination he got out of the car – leaving the obnoxious bouquet inside, of course – and offered Clyde a smile and his hand.

"Oh, how sweet," Clyde said with a measure of patronization as he took his hand and stepped out onto the pavement. Craig was almost irritated, but then Clyde wobbled on his platforms and ended up clutching him just a little tighter to stay balanced.

"All right there, _babe_?" Craig couldn't resist. Nor did he try.

"Thanks to you, _hun_." Clyde kept his grip tight and pulled Craig close. "You don't really think you have a chance, do you?" he asked softly. "Because you don't. You should save yourself the embarrassment…" He brushed his free hand against Craig's cheek. "Give up."

Craig gave him a dark look and pulled his hand away. Clyde started to chuckle, but then Craig slipped his hand into Clyde's back pocket instead, leaving out only his thumb. "You have _no idea_ what I'm capable of." He squeezed.

Clyde let out an undignified squeak, which he turned into forced giggles when Stan and Kyle looked back. "Oh no, don't mind us you guys! Just whispering sweet nothings," he said tersely. "God, my boyfriend is so _sweet_."

"Oh, that's cool." Kyle smiled back at them as he walked, completely unaware of the war brewing right under his nose. Stan too, who didn't seem to care what they were up to as much as he cared to jog ahead and hold the door open for Kyle.

Craig attempted to do the same thing for Clyde, but once again they apparently had the same idea and it turned into the two of them dashing for the door and roughly blundering in together. The hosts gave them strange looks, but thankfully Stan and Kyle hadn't been watching.

"So what's the deal with this place?" Craig asked, looking around once they were all seated on the opposite sides of a booth. It was like a fancy diner, without being _as_ fancy and candle-lit and posh as he expected. The classiest thing about it was the dimmed lighting and the fireplace on the far wall, so for a gay date location that Clyde and Kyle picked out, it certainly could have been worse.

"They're supposed to have really good pie," Clyde supplied.

"Yeah, he stopped considering anything else once we found that out," said Kyle.

"It's important," Clyde said with the simplest nod.

Craig blinked and grabbed a dessert menu to see that they had a pretty wide selection, too. Okay, rivalry aside, Clyde kind of made an awesome call on this one.

Hey, he should use that. "Good thinking, du- ear. Dear." He coughed a few times. _Damnit_!

Stan raised an eyebrow. Kyle tilted his head. Craig brewed a storm of internal cursing.

Clyde laughed. "Thanks bae! But we should probably look at the food menus before deciding on dessert. Pass me one, will you?"

"Sure," Stan said, passing out the menus at the center of the table before he and Kyle took off their coats and hats to reveal that they had dressed mindfully of date night after all, but Craig wasn't paying attention to that. Clyde gave him a save – why? Craig looked over at him, both grateful and worried, but Clyde only gave him a genuine smile and a shrug.

After deciding for sure that it wasn't a trap Craig slowly relaxed and smiled back, and Clyde beamed wider before turning to his menu. "What are you getting?"

"Don't know yet," Craig said, picking up his own menu. Something expensive for sure, because while Clyde texted with Kyle about the location, Craig texted with Stan about a deal wherein he would pay for everything tonight and in exchange Craig would shut up about Peru. Craig had no intentions of ever shutting up about Peru, but he would accept this as repayment, which was generous enough on his part. Especially if you factored in interest.

"What about you guys?" Clyde asked, looking across the table. "Salads?"

"Dude we're gay, not lesbians," said Kyle.

Clyde looked down at the menu. "Do you know any lesbians that like salads? I always figured they'd prefer burgers and like, baseball."

"I guess… I, ah, don't actually know any lesbians," Kyle admitted.

"I dunno, I might be one," Stan said seriously. "These burgers look really good."

"Well that would put a damper on our relationship," Kyle commented lightly.

Stan closed his eyes. "I guess we'd have to make it work."

"Oh, I suppose."

A moment later the couple grinned at each other and started getting cozy. Kyle scooted closer and gave Stan a kiss on the cheek, and Stan put his arm around Kyle while pushing aside one of the menus and shifting the other so the two of them could share. Then strangely his eyes flashed across the table to Craig, almost pinning him with a significant look. Significant _how_, he had no idea, but the waitress came by to take their orders before he could give it much consideration.

They all ended up getting burgers and soda except for Craig, who ordered steak, a virgin daiquiri, and three appetizers that they all shared over more lesbian jokes.

It turned out not to be all that bad. Stan and Kyle were being 'cute' but not excessive, Clyde was too busy enjoying the food to attempt his next move just yet, and Craig had an easier time participating in the conversation when that's all it really was – a conversation.

Then Kyle had to go and ask his question.

"When did we get together?" Craig repeated.

He and Clyde shared equally puzzled looks. It wouldn't have been tricky for a real couple to answer, but him and Clyde? Shit, the only thing they'd coordinated on had been by complete accident, and even that wasn't without flaw; Clyde had gone lip gloss over manicure.

"When _was_ that?" Clyde drawled out, tapping his chin to buy time.

"Do you not remember?" Stan asked skeptically.

"Well are you asking when we became official, or…?" Craig didn't really know what he was saying, but the important part was that he was saying it slowly.

Clyde suddenly grabbed Craig's leg under the table. "Because that was the weekend after the start of the school year. Right, Craig?"

Holy hell. Of course! "Right. So that's, what, a little over five months now?"

"Just about," Clyde said brightly, letting go of Craig's leg but keeping his hand there to give him a secret thumbs up. Craig returned it.

"Really? Wow! That's around the time we came out to everybody!" Kyle said.

"We know," Clyde said.

"Yeah," said Craig. "You guys are the ones who inspired us, actually."

"Oh yeah?" Stan asked.

"To stop hiding from our feelings," Clyde nodded, eyeing Craig with a grin that he could only share. These guys were such suckers.

Craig held his pinky out as he picked up his not-quite-finished daiquiri. "Basically we realized we really did like each other."

"Like _that_."

"Yeah."

"But enough about the magical love that is ours," Clyde said. "How did you guys end up getting together?"

That was a good question, actually. Not that Craig was particularly invested, but he couldn't deny that he was a little curious as to what came before the cafeteria incident.

"Well," Kyle was tentative, but continued after a reassuring smile and nod from Stan. "It all began last summer when we were stranded in the middle of the ocean."

And just like that, Craig stopped caring. Or maybe he just remembered who they were dealing with here.

"Wait," Clyde tilted his head in confusion, "how did you get stranded? …Which ocean?"

Craig nearly groaned. Did it matter? Damnit. Looks like requesting the short version was out.

Stan thought for a moment. "Pacific. And yeah, I guess it does start a little earlier huh?"

"How about the end of last year- the project thing?" Kyle asked.

"Hey, yeah! That'd be good I think."

"Okay," Kyle nodded, and sat a little taller as he addressed their side of the table. "So it actually started at the end of last year. We were working on a project together for government class…"

Craig loudly slurped the last of his drink in a mild effort to derail them, but no such luck. By the time their story wound to a close not only had everyone gotten their meals, but more or less finished them too. The whole thing took about a half hour, or maybe twenty-two minutes if breaks didn't count, but they did.

"…And remember, I thought he was dead, so when he showed up to save me?" Kyle looked lovingly over at his boyfriend.

"I heard everything he said about how he felt about me, too," Stan smiled adoringly back.

"Yeah," Kyle continued to practically swoon. "It would have been embarrassing, but he felt the same way! And needless to say his amnesia was gone at that point so he remembered who he was."

"And who _Kyle_ was," Stan said as though that were ten times more important, but who was anyone kidding, of course it was. "It didn't matter if those Martian wolf zombies turned him."

"Then we killed the Alpha Lich Captain together, and just like that I was cured!"

"Yeah, and since we were both human again, we had no problem finally using the time machine to get back to the present."

"In this dimension."

"Right – the present in this dimension," Stan nodded.

"So yeah, word of advice, never agree to help out with a presidential campaign. Even if they _are_ running against John Edward," Kyle said seriously. "But still, it did kind of work out for us. As soon as we got back, we shared our first kiss," he said in dreamy remembrance.

"It was the best adventure we'd ever had, and we've been together ever since," Stan sighed wistfully. "…Oh, but your story's cute, too."

Craig looked up sharply. Absolutely no part of their excessively escalating tale got Craig's interest, but that comment… "Yeah," he said experimentally. "I guess we're pretty dull in comparison."

"Well," Stan stacked his finished plate on top of Kyle's and pushed them both aside before leaning back in his seat and looking at Craig, "not every couple can have as much excitement as us." Kyle leaned against Stan agreeably and reached up to grab his hand shortly after it encased his shoulders.

Was Clyde seeing this? Craig looked over. Clyde was still processing. That was fine, he'd get there soon. To Craig though, it all became stunningly clear. The small details, the look Stan gave him earlier, the reason for the immediate double date; everything. And if they really wanted to play this game…

"Not every couple needs it." Craig reached his arm around Clyde's back and shifted closer to him. "I'm glad we didn't need all of that to get together. I guess Clyde and I just naturally worked?"

Stan's smile disappeared, and Craig had to try really hard to keep his from growing.

Game fucking on.

"That sounds nice." Even Kyle's politeness now sounded a little forced, and if Craig had any doubts he'd hit the nail on the head before, he didn't anymore. "You guys are both still in the closet though, right?" Kyle continued in not-so-idle conversation. "Are you going to come out anytime soon?"

"Everyone important knows what's up." Ah, there he was. Craig sent Clyde an appreciative smirk, and received a wink in return. "Other than that, why's it have to be everyone's business?" Clyde went on. "I mean if you wanna go announce your deal to the whole town that's cool, but with us it's more personal, secret, and _fun_. Think about it," he put his hands on the table and leaned in, "where do you think we were during class yesterday?" he baited.

"Well it's not like we never sneak around," Stan said quickly.

"Stan!" Kyle hissed.

"What? I'm just saying, we do know what they're talking about," he said, though he was somewhat sheepish about it now.

Lucky for them, they were saved by the waitress sweeping in and collecting their plates. Less lucky for them, by the time she returned to take their dessert orders, Craig had his next move all lined up.

"And what about the two of you?" The waitress smiled at them once she'd taken Kyle and Stan's orders in turn.

"I think we'll just split a piece. French silk," Craig said, a little because he genuinely liked it, a little more because he knew Clyde liked it a lot, but mostly because it had the sexiest name. For pie. "If that's okay with you, Clydey Cakes?"

"Oh Craigberry Muffin, you know it is."

God, he didn't even care that the waitress was right there. They were upstaging them so bad, and it was _awesome_. Then their desserts were brought out, and it got even better.

"Say '_ahhhh._'"

"_Ahhhh_," Clyde said, opening his mouth as Craig fed him the first piece, taking great pleasure in Stan and Kyle's borderline discomfort. They'd be terrible at gay chicken.

Wait. Never mind.

"Well I'm glad we got two," Stan said, in his best effort to ignore their dynamite chemistry as he looked over at Kyle. "That way we can share, right?"

"Yeah, let's do it!" Kyle brightened. "Here, you _have_ to try some of mine," he said, slicing off a small portion of his pie with his fork and raising it carefully over to Stan.

Craig wanted to laugh. They _would_ have to resort to copying to keep up with them. As the only teen gay couple in town he supposed it made sense for Kyle and Stan to want to compare, but they should choose their battles more carefully. When it came to competition, he and Clyde were sparkled veterans.

On that note he turned back to him, determined to continue being as sickeningly gushy as possible. "How was it?"

There was a familiar glint in Clyde's eyes, and for once Craig wasn't concerned to see it. "Why don't you come over here and have a taste?" he winked, and holy shit, _yes_. Clyde was on top of his game tonight, he really was. Craig put down the fork and leaned over, capturing his lips in a slow, tender kiss – and you know? He did taste french silk.

"Mmm," Craig licked his lips as he drew back. "Delicious."

"Stan, what the hell?!"

On the other side of the table, their plan seemed to blow up in their faces – or maybe just Kyle's, from the way his fists were clenched on the table and his eyes bugged out accusingly. "What kind of pie did you get?!"

"I…" Stan blanched, withdrawing his fork. "I don't remember."

Kyle glared at Stan, then the plate, then Stan again. "That's _disgusting_," he said, disgusted, before he stood and excused himself to the bathroom in a hurry.

Craig looked over at Clyde, checking to make sure he was just as lost.

He was. "What's wrong with banana cream?"

Stan actually flinched at the words before he let his head sink into his hands. "_Everything_."

Craig still didn't understand, but he did know a critical failure when he saw one.

Oh sure they reconciled when Kyle got back, but given the fact that they didn't try to share or kiss at all while Craig and Clyde merrily went about both, it seemed pretty clear who the winners of this date were. And watching Stan try not to grumble as he paid for everything was well worth the whole night.

The ride back was considerably more pleasant than the trip there, made possible in part by Stan and Kyle's less than apparent sulking. As for Craig, well he didn't want them defeated so much as he wanted them _crushed_, so he kept with the lovey dovey façade in the back seat with Clyde, who remained happy to assist.

When they made it back to their houses, it was almost too soon.

"So that was a lot of fun," Craig said truthfully once the car came to a stop. "We should do it again sometime." All right, that one was false.

"We should," Kyle said with a weary smile, but a smile all the same. He sounded like he honestly meant that too, which _almost_ made Craig feel bad, but still didn't quite.

"Soon," a determined Stan added.

"I'm sure we'll catch up next week," Clyde said. "It was a good time! Buuuut, we're gonna have a problem if you don't let us out for some alone time soon, if you know what I mean."

Kyle laughed and opened the door. "Definitely," he said, with more understanding than either of them could honestly boast.

Craig got out of the car as soon as the seat was up, mindful to grab the bouquet that at this point could only amuse him, and offered Clyde his hand once again. He used it as leverage to pull himself into Craig's arms briefly before turning to bid his last farewell to Stan and Kyle. Even Craig gave them a non-malicious nod, and together, the victors went hand in hand down the sidewalk.

Clyde waited until they were out of earshot to break the silence. "So."

"Mhmm." Craig heard the car door shut behind them. "Should be safe now."

Clyde glanced back, just for a second. Then he looked at Craig.

They burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, we killed it so bad it wasn't even funny except for it's goddamn _hilarious_."

"I know. And dude, did we really have the _exact same_ plan?" Craig let go of Clyde's hand to gesture down at his own obnoxious pink outfit to Clyde's bold magenta one. "My sister didn't tip you off or anything?"

"Nah man, I just figured it'd be easy to weird you out with gay shit if I became like, the _gayest_ shit, you know?"

"I really do," Craig said, shaking his head as they stopped in front of Clyde's door. Then he glanced behind him. "Don't look, but Stan and Kyle are still parked on the street."

Clyde looked, then withheld a snicker. "Think they're waiting for something?" he asked suggestively.

Craig had also figured as much. "Well I'm not going to be the one to give us away now. Are you?"

"Ha, you wish. C'mere, oh totally real boyfriend of mine," Clyde said, grabbing the sides of Craig's jacket and cracking another grin.

Craig too. He wanted to say something in response – keep the joke going – but he couldn't really think of anything so just let himself succumb to another bout of laughter that Clyde ended up getting caught in too. Then they were kissing, and Craig held up his bouquet to block the roadside view not because he didn't want Stan and Kyle to see, but because he did; it'd be straight up cinematic.

It wasn't one kiss they shared at first so much as it was a flurry of them, interrupted by the sporadic bubbles of continuing laughter. Then Clyde took over as he usually did, with all the unfair effortlessness that nearly always succeeded in leaving Craig feeling blinded and off-balance, in a worryingly addicting way that he liked to avoid when he could.

Or at least when it was worth a point. Tonight it wasn't, and somehow enjoyment filled in for his usual apprehension. Tonight it was consequence free, it was fun, and when everything around him started to fuzz and disappear, he let it. It wasn't as overwhelming as he'd always feared. Fuck, it was incredible.

Then it ended, and he wasn't sure where in all that he'd gotten his arms all over Clyde, but in his defense Clyde had done the same thing so their untangling was much more cooperative than it was one-sided. Craig's head still spun, but he was able to pull back with a ruffled but still mostly okay bouquet, which was good; he'd need it looking nice for its photo-op in his trash can.

He looked forward to texting Clyde the picture, but never mind that for now; what was important was Stan and Kyle's reaction. Not that he'd be able to see it because the evening was pretty dark, but simply knowing that the car was-

…Gone?

Craig's vision stabilized and his eyes swept the street, but not a tail light was in sight.

Clyde too turned to the abandoned road, but he was preoccupied with fixing his skewed shades and pulling down his rumpled jacket. Only when he looked back up with a curious tilt of his head did Craig realize it had distracted him too, so he hastily looked down to tug on the sleeves of his own jacket. No – to take it off entirely.

"Did you even hear them drive off?" Clyde asked.

"No," Craig said tightly. "The fake date's over. They didn't see through either of us. What do we do about points?" They were playing a game, here.

"Oh, hey." Clyde's inflection confirmed that it had slipped his mind somewhere along the line, too. Then he laughed. "Man, you were so convincing!" Craig put the jacket in his flower hand and tightened his grip to clutch them both down at his side. He took his plastic shades off, too. "I did _not_ think you'd make it through the whole thing," Clyde went on. "Not that I'm not totally cool with how things went down. We should both get mad credit for that. Three-four?" he suggested. "Two and a half, three and a half?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Which?"

"Does it matter?"

Clyde gave him a strange look. "Three-four," he decided. "Y'know, Craig…"

Craig hesitated. "Yeah?"

"I can't _wait_ to tell them we're not gay," he said mischievously as he slipped off his own shades, hooking them against his jacket.

Right… that's right. They still got to do that. Craig finally looked back at Clyde and tuned back in to their shared wavelength. From there it was surprisingly easy to relax. "That," he said, clearing the last laughably errant thought from his mind, "is going to be fucking _great_."

Clyde's eyes lit up. "Now you're talking!" he exclaimed. "Next time?"

"Yeah," Craig replied, smiling slyly at his co-conspirator. "Next time."


	4. SUDDEN DEATH: VS CRYDE

**AN:** Awwyeah, final round, let's go! As usual, thank you guys! I love reading your feedback, I really do. Ahh, this fic has just never stopped being fun, I'm a little sad I'm done writing it. Still feeling accomplished, though! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the conclusion! ALSO: **I have altered the rating.** _(Pray I don't alter it any further.)_ But, probably don't get too excited. Or worried for that matter. Finally, keep an eye out for the sequel! It'll be called Fish and star Kanye West and pffffhahaha I'm sorry, that was bad. Anyway. Please enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Hey Clyde."<p>

"Oh. Hey," Clyde said when Craig sat down next to him. The cafeteria was still filling out with most of the students still waiting in line to get their food, the usual occupants of the four empty seats beside them included. "So, it's getting a little warmer out."

Craig looked outside, through the grouping of windows that took up most of the far wall. "I guess." His eyes remained on the wall. Idly, he twisted open the cap to his drink. "I thought it was kind of cold today."

"Oh, today, yeah," Clyde said. "I was talking about like, in general."

Craig did not respond.

"Because yesterday wasn't bad."

Nothing.

"Like, the sun was out."

Zilch.

"…Think it'll snow again?"

Craig finally looked away from the window, but only to focus on the lunch line. "Probably."

"Yeah." Clyde poked his fork at the green beans on his tray. Why did he even get these? He hated green beans. "We live in Colorado, after all." He ate them anyway.

Pause. "Yeah."

More silence.

"Did you do the homework?" Clyde asked.

"Which?"

"The statistics shit."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Cool. Me too."

Craig stabbed one of his chicken nuggets with a fork, gave it an incomprehensive stare, then pulled it off and dropped it back down. Clyde looked down and grabbed one from his own tray, figuring that shoving it in his mouth was the most effective way to spare them both.

"…How are they?" Craig asked, throwing him off. Clearly he did not want to be spared. Clyde grimaced, chewed faster, and tried to formulate a response.

"Good," he ended up saying. Could he be any lamer? "I mean, it's chicken. Chicken is always good," he elaborated, mostly just to say words, but then Craig got tense and looked away and Clyde realized his foul and also that yes, he could get lamer, very much so.

"Hey guys," Tweek greeted, setting his tray down across from them.

Clyde hadn't really processed his arrival though, not before he was standing up. "Yeeeeahh I have to go to the bathroom."

"Ack! _What did I do_?!"

Clyde decided that the best thing to do was to just stick to his bathroom agenda and get out of there, not that he'd be able to relieve himself of any of _that_. He just needed to leave, and come back when it was less awkward. Then he made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder for one last look before his exit to see that Token had joined the table, and now the three of them were leaning in and talking all hush-hush. It would have been whatever, if not for the fact that they were all _staring at him_.

Oh sure they looked away when they were caught, but fuck, really? Craig looked pissed. What were they talking about? He… he had a bad feeling… he needed to go to the bathroom.

Clyde started down the hall.

"Hey Clyde, wait up!"

Or maybe not.

Clyde turned before he properly placed the voice, then kind of wished he hadn't because it was Kyle Broflovski that was flagging him down.

"Thanks," Kyle said with a brief smile when he caught up to him. Clyde just nodded, like it was fully intentional. "So, um. How are things?" he asked. "I heard that you and Craig were kind of…"

"What?" he asked, challenging.

Kyle deflated. "I don't know, dude. What's going on?"

"Why don't you tell me? I mean, since you guys know everything." Craig would be so proud.

Kyle gave him an irritated look, but took a small breath to clear it away. "Can you just tell me what happened? Maybe we can help."

"You already know what happened, and you _already_ helped," Clyde continued, with little apology. And why should he be sorry anyway?

It really was all Kyle and Stan's fault.

"Wait. Waaaaaait wait wait." Stan had gaped at them the first time he and Kyle saw them after the date, trying to wrap his head around their genius and trickery. "You're saying you're _not_ a couple. You're _not_ gay?"

Craig lifted his chin. "Not in the slightest."

"We had you going the whooole time," Clyde gloated.

Stan and Kyle shared a look like they were sharing data, slowly processing the facts before the entire thing dawned on them completely. Then they looked back at Clyde and Craig.

"No, you didn't," said Stan.

"Yeah, okay," Clyde laughed it off. "Whatever you say, guys!"

"Wow. Can't even accept defeat like a man, can you Marsh?" Craig snickered.

Stan glared. "Yes I-"

"That's not the point here; that's _not_ what we're saying," Kyle said. "You maybe had _someone_ going the whole time, but dudes? It wasn't us."

"Thank you!" Stan exclaimed, as if Kyle was actually making sense.

"What do you mean it wasn't you?" Clyde tilted his head as he asked. "There wasn't anyone else there."

Kyle's hands closed into fists. "Just how fucking delusional are you?"

"Okay, back off," Craig said, smile now gone. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Oh?" Kyle asked, glare snapping from Clyde to Craig. "Well let's examine this for a minute, shall we? If it walks gay, and it talks gay, and it _kisses other dudes_, then what would you call it exactly?"

Craig grabbed Clyde's shoulder in a tense plea for restraint, but Clyde stood preoccupied, confidence slipping into more and more uncertainty as he worked out what they were trying to say. "…Gay?"

"Hold on to your hat Kyle, I think we have a winner," Stan said.

"Craig, uh." Clyde hesitated to look over, but he did it anyway. Beyond that, he was at a loss for words.

"You've got it all wrong," Craig scowled at Stan and Kyle as he pulled his hand away. "Were you even listening? This whole thing – it's all just for fun."

"Yeah, no, I get that. Stan and I have a lot of fun heavy petting, too," Kyle shot back. Stan didn't even say anything, just took a step back and crossed his arms, wearing an expression little short of raw satisfaction.

Craig's argument with Kyle escalated to yelling. "We weren't heavy petting, we were light petting!"

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot how less gay that was!"

"It doesn't even matter because we were _pretending_ to be a couple, you idiots!"

"No, you're just too fucking stupid to realize you _are_ one!"

Craig opened his mouth, but lacked an immediate response to that. If Clyde hadn't been worried before, he definitely was then.

Kyle barreled on. "Jesus Christ you guys, think about it! Five months? _Months_! And Saturday- don't even get me started. The bullshit might fly for the matching outfits and flowers and shit, but _straight_ guys don't get _that_ into each other at _every_ opportunity! Unless body language was a part of your act too? Or chemistry? What about whatever you guys kept doing at the doorway after we drove off?" Kyle gave Craig a critical stare. Then he turned it on Clyde, who'd already been trying not to sweat.

"Thought so," Kyle said, with absolutely no uncertainty about it. "Well guys, it looks like you have a few things to talk about, so why don't we leave you to it?" He turned expectantly to Stan, who finally turned his smirk away from Craig and Clyde to put his hand low on Kyle's back and turn them around.

As they walked away Stan leaned in close to whisper in Kyle's ear. Kyle paused, and whispered something back. After that they simply continued down the hall to their next class, except instead of turning right they headed straight on to push open the outside doors. Stan's hand sliding lower was the last thing they saw before the couple disappeared to the parking lot.

Leaving Clyde and Craig to each other.

"…Stan and Kyle are idiots," Craig said stiffly.

"Heh, yeah," Clyde managed. "…So I just remembered, I have a, uh, thing-"

"Me too," Craig was quick to reply.

That was all it took for them to disperse, or to attempt to. It would have been more effective if they hadn't both stepped in the same direction – or if they hadn't both screeched to a halt when they realized it.

"I just remembered my thing's actually this way," Craig said.

"Oh, okay cool. Mine's this way still."

"Good- I mean, okay. See you?"

"Yeah! Yeah, see you," Clyde said.

And now here he was, once again in the unfortunate position of facing against Kyle in the hallway. Only this time he was on his own.

"Look Clyde, you can't blame us for not being _blind_," Kyle said. "Besides, that was like two weeks ago-"

"Three."

"Fine, three weeks ago – don't tell me you still haven't talked?"

"We've talked," Clyde insisted, because it was true. "We talk all the time. We _just_ talked."

"You know what I mean."

"I thought I was fucking delusional."

"Really?" Kyle didn't look impressed at all. "I'd expect this from Craig, but if you're going to keep being an asshole about it then I'm not going to help you."

Clyde blinked. "Seriously? 'Cause that'd be sweet." Hello, downside? Yeah, not seeing you there.

Kyle didn't even bother with the last word, just scoffed, turned around, and stalked his way back to the cafeteria.

Clyde felt both guilty and kind of good about that. Kyle was an okay guy, he just wasn't someone Clyde wanted to deal with right now. Or ever, if he was going to keep bringing up the same stupid thing that was just so- so… where was he? Ah yes, bathroom.

Clyde turned and took a few more steps down the hall.

"Clyde! Can I talk to you?"

And turned right back around. "Token?" He… wasn't quite sure how much he wanted to deal with Token right now either, all things considered, but he played it cool. "'Sup?"

"Nothing much. Were you talking to Kyle just now? What did he want?" Token asked, glancing over his shoulder as he came to a stop in front of him.

"Nothing. What were you talking to Craig about?" he asked in return. It was a little on the blunt side, but he felt kind of justified.

"That was," Token paused, then sighed. "The same thing this is, I guess. Are you and Craig okay, dude?"

Of course it was this. "Why wouldn't we be? We're friends. Just friends," he added, in case he'd been conspiring with Kyle and Stan as Clyde now suspected.

"I know that, but you haven't had to listen to the two of you talk lately. It's… awkward," Token said. "Really, really awkward."

"It is not."

"Come on dude, it's like you guys broke up or something." Clyde flinched, and Token's smile disappeared quicker than it had formed. "That was a joke," he clarified. "But see? That's what I'm talking about! Can we please stop pretending you two aren't off? Ever since you stopped playing the game…"

"Hold on, are you worried about our _friendship_ because we quit making out?"

"Well, it's certainly one way of looking at it."

Jeez, no wonder Craig was pissed. Clyde kind of was too now, though at least some of that was still carrying over from his chat with Kyle. Either way. "It was just a game, Token."

"Seemed serious to me."

"It wasn't."

"You guys need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"God, you two!" Token rubbed his head, exasperated. "I get that Craig probably doesn't have any balls but you're supposed to have at least _one_."

"Wh- sorry?"

"Yeah, you should be. Just have an honest heart to heart, it's not hard! If you're gay, great; if you're really close homoerotic best friends, also great. Just talk to each other about it so we can all go back to normal, please?"

Clyde clenched his jaw. "I'm going to the bathroom now," he said, turning around.

"Fine. Jesus," Token said behind him, before he too started to take steps in the opposite direction. "You're going to have to figure it out eventually, and I'm going to give you so much shit when you do. That is all."

Ugh. So Token was totally conspiring with Kyle and Stan, but whatever; maybe now he could piss in peace.

And he almost made it too, but lo, the hall of ambush striketh once more.

"Clyde!"

"What do you want Stan?" Clyde asked, though at this point he could hazard a guess.

"Dude I know you're probably going through a sexuality crisis or something, but taking it out on Kyle was completely uncalled for when all he was doing was trying to help."

"I'm not having a crisis!" Clyde insisted heatedly. "And if that's all you came out here to say, then quit wasting your time 'cause I've heard it!"

"Actually I have to go to the bathroom," Stan said, "but still, you should make it official already. It was funny at first, now it's kind of sad."

"Craig's not gay, I'm not gay, _we are not gay_."

"Okay, but really you are."

He was about to tell Stan to piss off, but he was already disappearing into the bathroom for high school cissies. Good riddance. Was he done now? Yes? Good. Clyde set his sights on the men's room, so that he could finally-

"Hey Clyde."

_Sonofa_- "WE ARE NOT DATING!"

Pause. "Not with that attitude, we're not," Kenny said, both eyes and tone just teeming with suggestion. "Bathroom tryst?"

Clyde sputtered.

"Got it," Kenny laughed. "Hope you and Craig make up soon."

Clyde's skin burned as he failed to respond, opting instead to wheel straight around and power walk back to the cafeteria.

God, what was wrong with everyone today? Or just everyone, in general? Nobody got it at all. Nobody except… damn it. Clyde wanted nothing more than to steal his lame hat and make him chase him for it all the way back to his house so they could sit on the couch and fight over movies and snacks and laugh at how stupid literally _everyone_ was being about them, but it was for that same jacked reason that he just _couldn't_. It was impossible. Stan, Kyle, Token, probably Tweek, and whoever else; they screwed up everything, ruining it all with assumptions that weren't true. Like. That's why they were called _assumptions_. They'd flat out told them the truth, multiple times, so what was the problem? What was it about the nature of their relationship that was so difficult to grasp?

And if Clyde maybe looked at Craig sometimes and wondered the same thing, well- well he didn't, so that wasn't even relevant.

It remained irrelevant all that day, and the day that followed. The day after _that_ it was least relevant of all, particularly when Clyde was smashing his face into his blankets to effectively become one with his bed.

It was too early to be tired, but Clyde still entertained the thought of trying to sleep just so he could make the rest of the day disappear. As appealing as the idea was though, deep down, he knew he couldn't. Not like this.

He'd need a pillow first. No, really; he'd collapsed the wrong way entirely. Oh sure, he could get up and flop around so that he was lying on the bed properly instead of backwards, but that would involve getting up, and that was too much effort.

It was a dilemma for sure, but not impossible to work with. Keeping his face firmly planted in his comforter, he maneuvered his feet to wedge the pillow between them. Once he was sure he had it he figured he could just kick up and send it flying straight into his hands, or on his back or head or somewhere else he could reasonably reach for it. He wasn't picky so long as it didn't land on the floor or something – which, from the distinct _thwump_ on his left, is exactly where he'd flung it.

Damnit. So close. Clyde let out a muffled pout, resigning to the fact that he tried, and should really just push himself up now and… nah.

Then his phone vibrated in his pocket, and his eyes snapped open into darkness and scratchy lint. He sat up immediately, trying not to feel too nervous as he dug the phone out of his pocket to check the message.

_Getting groceries after close. What do u want for dinner tomorrow_

Oh.

Clyde scooted himself against the headboard and texted back something about pizza before continuing to mess around with his phone. As he fiddled his mind wandered, and from there it wasn't long before he found the game document open once more.

A bold score stared back up at him, floating above the list of individual months where Clyde had been declared the winner of February and March was not listed.

_Last edit was made on March 1 by Craig T_

Clyde stared at that line, knowing it wouldn't change. The first time he'd seen it he changed the settings to read-only for Craig, effectively locking him out of making any more edits in case he had any ideas to come back and delete it all like Clyde feared he might. Not that there was much to erase, it was just…

_September (10__th__-30__th__): __**1-0**__ CLYDE WINS eat shit Craig  
><em>_October: __**1-1**__ Suck it.  
><em>_November: __**1-2**__ See above.  
><em>_December: __**2-2**__ Craig = gay  
><em>_January: __**2-3**__ Clyde = gayer  
><em>_**3-4**__ Stan and Kyle = gayest  
><em>_February: __**4-4**_

Five months. Or would it be six now? His eyes flickered to the date at the corner of his phone, then widened. Yeah, six months. As of today. Ha.

Ha…

But his exact opinion on that didn't get the chance to form; not before a new piece of information appeared at the top of the document.

_1 other viewer_

Oh. Well. Look at that. Craig was looking at this right now. Craig could also see that Clyde was looking at this right now. He- _He was here_.

Clyde's skin crawled just _trying_ to stand this, but he kept staring, kept waiting for the notice to go away. When it didn't he took a deep breath, put down his cursor, and tapped for a new line.

_hey look its our 6month rofl_

He leaned back a little to observe his work, then decided it would sound better if he deleted '_rofl_' and replaced it with '_lmao_.' By the time he completed this task he remembered that there was no send button on a document and Craig had seen him type and edit as he typed and edited and _sheeeeiiiiit_.

To cover it up he started typing more – '_happy aniversary lol jk_' – but he was barely into the second word when the viewer number disappeared and two once again became one. Clyde's throat dried a little, but he didn't get water; just closed the document, threw his phone at his fallen pillow, stuck the landing, and mushed his face into his bedding all over again.

This time it lasted all of five minutes before restlessness took over, and he concluded that the most logical way to spend his gayversary was to get an Amulet of Mara in Skyrim and get gay married.

Clyde fired up his high elf and wasted a few hours doing just that without much difficulty, unless you counted figuring out how to get an Amulet of Mara in the first place, running around aimlessly, spending like twenty minutes trying to decide which companion twin was hotter, doing a few side quests he'd forgotten about, propositioning the hotter guy, eating a bunch of cheese to lose weight, missing his wedding because he was attacked by a dragon, getting eternally scorned by his would-be husband, blasting his would-be husband with a fireball to the face out of spite, and dying to the entire wedding company going hostile as a result of said blasting.

He didn't feel like playing after that.

He grabbed his phone from his pillow and grabbed his pillow from the floor, throwing the latter back on his bed and checking the former for new messages. There weren't any.

This time he did get water. Clyde went downstairs, continuing to stare at the screen in case any notifications decided to miraculously appear, but of course they didn't so…

…Damnit, why not?

He slammed his phone face down on the kitchen table and got a drink, emptied it quickly, filled it back up, and clutched it tightly as he sat down.

When did this shit get so real? Like, really? He wanted to go back to the beginning, when everything was light and fun without being taken so seriously because it never, not even once was supposed to be. For real though, screw everybody for telling him to talk to Craig, and screw Craig most of all for not talking to him. Not that Clyde wanted to talk to him either, but at the same time he really, really did.

It was their anniversary. That should be hilarious. It _was_ hilarious! But Craig just wasn't acknowledging it, that bitch. Seriously, Clyde should go over there.

Clyde paused. Should he go over there?

…He was going over there.

Executive decision made, Clyde slammed his second glass of water, realized immediately how badly it made him have to pee, took care of business, stomped to his front door, jerked it open, and saw Craig standing right there, fiddling with the stem of a single rose between his thumbs.

Craig blinked up at him, not even surprised as much as he was flustered, but he squared his shoulders and held out the rose. "Happy anniversary, dickhole."

Clyde didn't mean to keep staring, he was just trying to figure out if he'd peed enough because he suddenly felt like he still had more in there, probably because this was way too impossible to actually fathom. He tried to formulate some kind of proper response, but then Craig started to look nervous and worried and that wasn't something Clyde wanted _at all_ so he quickly went with his gut impulse and took the rose, clutching it dramatically over his chest. "Be still, my raging boner."

Craig relaxed, then grinned, then _laughed_, and shit had Clyde missed that. He didn't even join him, just smiled wide enough for his cheeks to hurt and pulled Craig inside, kicking the door shut along the way. If dragging Craig up to his room was surreal, it was only because of how absolutely normal it felt. The three weeks might as well have been nothing.

Then when they got to Clyde's room, Craig shut the door and turned to him with determination. "We need to start playing again so people stop thinking we're not okay."

Clyde could cry. Craig- Craig _got it_. "Oh my god, I know. It's like, yeah, assholes? We're fine."

"Thank you!" Craig exclaimed, relieved. "Do you know how many times Token and Tweek and even _Stan_ tried to talk to me about '_us_'?"

"Dude I had this whole like, intervention hallway."

Craig scrunched his nose in disgust. "That sounds awful."

"It was!" Clyde exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and then letting them fall, settling one on Craig's shoulder on the way down. "Man… I'm so glad you're here."

"Yeah." Craig's sigh was a content one. Then he paused. "Wait. Are we playing?"

"Wh- right now? Oh no, I wasn't-" Clyde started pulling his hand away before he paused too, "-but we can be?"

"Would that be okay?"

"Sure, who's starting?"

"I can."

"Sweet, let me put down my flower."

"Should we stay standing up, or?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm good. You?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Cool," Clyde said, getting into position in front of Craig and making sure his feet were planted firmly on the carpet. When he was satisfied, he looked up. "Okay, come at me."

Craig nodded, taking a second. Then he started lifting his hands, but struggled with where to put them or even what to do with them at all. His slow-motion flailing would have been a mockable offense in most cases, but Clyde didn't tease him for it, he didn't dare. Instead he just kind of held his breath and prayed for Craig to find his groove soon because this could _not_ be weird, it absolutely could not.

And hallelujah, Craig's hands eventually found safe haven on Clyde's shoulders and he stepped closer.

Clyde was relieved, and since that officially counted as starting, he moved to participate by closing in and tilting his head a little. Craig gave himself a nearly imperceptive nod before he did the same. It was surprising how easy it was to fall right back into this, but also not really, because to be perfectly honest they'd mastered the trajectory long ago.

The tentative rate at which they closed the space between their lips, now, _that_ was more reminiscent of the first time they'd done this competitively, complete with the stuttering pauses and the alternations between thinking and not.

And like that first time they got close but didn't seal the kiss, with Craig cutting it off and Clyde being beyond grateful that he did.

If only the reasons weren't so different.

"…Clyde," Craig breathed his name on his lips, which was too much; Clyde turned away. Craig let his arms drop to his sides and gave him a rueful look. "I don't know if I can do this."

"We could try again," Clyde said, though it was barely half-hearted.

"I don't think so. I… I think we maybe need to consider the possibility that we…"

"Stop," Clyde said. "I know what you're getting at but- just stop."

"What do you want me to say, Clyde?"

"I don't know," Clyde said. He sat at the side of his bed and covered his face with his hand. "It's because of the game, isn't it?"

Craig struggled. "A little, maybe."

"But you know that's just how we are!" Clyde insisted, almost pleadingly as he looked up. "Just because nobody understands us doesn't mean what we have isn't fake!"

"I…" Craig looked away.

"Craig, please… the past six months… please don't tell me all of it wasn't a lie."

Craig didn't say anything, but his guilty aversion showed enough.

"So that's it, then." Clyde's voice was quiet, but only at first. "Well way to go for starting the game in the first place, Craig, bravo."

"Don't you dare put all of this on me," Craig shot back.

"Oh yeah, I bet you're _really_ secure in your sexuality now."

"I'm not the one who exposed everything to everyone!"

"What does homecoming have to do with anything!"

"_What_?!"

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's not fight?"

Craig gave him a dubious look, but it only held for a moment before he let it all go with a resigned sigh. He walked over and slumped down beside him, hands hanging loosely in his lap. "Come on, dude… I can't be the only one who's thought it," he said heavily. "Three weeks."

And wasn't that the truth of it. You could build a wall as high as you want, but if enough people hit it, it's gonna knock down. Especially when it's an inside job.

"You're not," Clyde finally admitted. "I… Stan and Kyle are jerks, but they're right," he said, shifting a little. Hopefully Craig appreciated this; this wasn't easy for him. "I don't know if we've been dating since like, _September_, but yeah… we've probably been dating. For real." There. He said it. It was done. Happy, assholes?

Craig didn't look happy, but he didn't look particularly bummed either. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Clyde said, shaking his head. "So what do we do about it?"

"Hell if I know. Maybe we could say if we want to keep at it on three or something," he mused.

Clyde looked at him thoughtfully. He knew Craig wasn't being serious, but why the hell not? "Two?"

Craig paused. "One."

They both opened their mouths, but neither said a word.

"Dude, it doesn't work if you don't actually say anything," Clyde admonished.

"Is that right."

"I'm just saying."

"I'm sure," Craig said flatly. "I guess saying things at the same time is kind of hard… especially if they end up being different things."

God, Clyde hoped not. Yes, no, maybe, whatever; just please, _please_ let them be on the same page with this, even if the exact number of that page was something Clyde was still trying to work out.

"Okay, how about this: we play paper rock scissors, but like, a gay or not version."

Craig looked at Clyde like there was something wrong with his head, but only before he realized how good of an idea that was and it inevitably won him over. "That could work."

"Sweet," Clyde said. "Rock is gay."

"Why is rock gay?"

Clyde promptly raise one finger, then two, then three, then folded them all into a fist.

Craig stared. "I don't get it."

"Really?" Clyde asked, amused.

"Are you going to explain?"

"When you're older, maybe."

"Asshole," Craig scoffed.

"Paper is straight," Clyde went on.

"That makes sense. Scissors?"

"Scissors isn't important, it's nothing."

"No, it should be something."

"Then pick something."

"I don't-" Craig started, but stopped mid-sentence. "Lesbian."

"Oh wow, that's good," Clyde snickered.

Craig smirked proudly. "Okay, let's go." He made a fist and hovered it over his open palm.

Clyde did the same. "Straight," he and Craig struck down once, "gay," twice, "_lesbian_!" It was about at that point where Clyde realized he had _no idea_ what to pick, so naturally he panicked and threw down lesbian.

But, so did Craig.

Snickering ensued once more, and by the time they got situated to play again they may as well have laughed the tension right out of the room. Clyde even tried to treat this second round more seriously, but the lazy grin that Craig now wore disabled him from doing any such thing. Not that he minded, because at the same time it made everything, _everything_ clearer. Like. We're talking crystal.

On the third strike of round two, Clyde kept his hand closed.

So did Craig.

Clyde hadn't even gotten as far as thinking he should have maybe held his breath or whatever before the results were in, alleviating any and all of his retrospective worry. No, the only thing he could think to do now was rotate his hand in, wait for Craig to do the same, and bump their knuckles together.

"Man. We are on point."

"Looks like it," Craig marveled.

"…So. What now?"

"I guess..." Craig glanced briefly over his shoulder at the rest of the bed before looking back at Clyde. "Lie down?"

"Oka- hey, wait." Clyde stopped moving just a second after he'd started. "Why do I have to lie down? You lie down."

"Damnit Clyde," Craig said, in the patient sort of way where he really wasn't patient at all, "I'm trying to take this seriously, for _you_, so can you _please_ just lie the hell down?"

"I'm trying to do the same thing!" Clyde argued. "Why are you the one who automatically gets to have his way with me?"

"_Fine_," Craig shot back before he gripped the side of the bed and pushed himself further against it, kicking up his feet. "Happy?"

"Oh hell yeah." Clyde swooped over him at once with a hand on either side of his head, and hey let's kick a leg over to straddle him too while we're at it.

Yes… yes, this was nice. Now then. Clyde let a smirk spread across his lips, looked down at Craig, and…

…and…

"Well?" Craig asked impatiently.

"Give me a second!" After a second, he frowned. "...You wanna switch places?"

"Unbelievable."

Craig sat up, and Clyde worked with him to swap their positions until it was him with his back to the mattress. Then he looked up at Craig expectantly, even though he wasn't even doing anything either and _ha_, wasn't so easy now that it was real, was it? Clyde didn't call him out on it though, because he for one was a gentleman.

At least he was until Craig finally worked up the nerve to move. "Craig, wait!"

Craig froze. "What?"

"Be gentle." Clyde fluttered his lashes. "I've never done this before."

"You," Craig said, shaking his head, "are the worst boyfriend ever."

"But I _am_ your boyfriend," he took care to point out, and _woah_. He was. Him and Craig… was there a limit to how many times reality could keep hitting you over and over? Because Clyde was starting to think there might not be.

"And… you're absolutely sure you want that?"

Woah, wait. Craig, what? "We fist bumped on it."

"I know, but," Craig hesitated. He must have underestimated the power of the b word and its effects. "I didn't actually think you'd pick rock. Gay. Whatever."

"I did though," Clyde reminded.

"You've also been dating girls since grade school."

Hell yeah he has, but he knew better than to brag about his celebrated history as a lady killer when that seemed to be the issue.

"I mean, I guess I still don't really know how I like dudes in general, but… it's you," Clyde said with an honest shrug. Craig looked at him like it was complicated, but it really wasn't. Clyde propped himself up on his elbows. "You know you're basically my favorite person, right? And then we started playing the game, and _god_, it was stupid and fun and then we started doing it more but it was never supposed to be real but then it was and- and the last few weeks _sucked_, you have no idea, or maybe you do, actually yeah you probably do, but, um," he wasn't sure how much sense this was all making, but he kept going. "I wouldn't have kept doing it if I didn't like it, and I _do_ like it Craig, I like it a lot. I don't want to stop being friends because of it, but I don't want to stop either, so if that means being _together_ together with you then yeah, that's what I want, and if that makes me gay, well, I don't know man, say something?" he urged anxiously, because wow, what the hell kind of emotional word vomit was that?

Craig seemed to appreciate it though, because the smile he gave him lit everything up, including but not limited to Clyde's entire world. Nothing could be more perfect.

"Same."

Aaaaaaand it's gone.

"'Same.' Wow. Thanks man. I didn't know I could ever be so touched."

A small, confident smirk played across Craig's lips, and only then did Clyde realize the fault of his phrasing. Still, he couldn't mind it much; not with Craig taking full advantage, locking their lips with a warm passion that Clyde was eager to respond to. Shit, he was all about it. Kissing Craig wasn't a battle now, it was a rhythm, inspired by the details of his mouth that he already knew every intimate measure of and the freedom to jam without the threat of defeat.

Hm. That would make a pretty cool band name.

Craig cut them off early. "Fuck I missed this," he said before pushing Clyde's shoulders back against the bed and following him down, now claiming his mouth with much more confidence and double the demand.

_Same_, Clyde said back in his head. If this was how Craig articulated his feelings, then yeah, he was more than okay with it.

Together they made up for lost time – a good three weeks' worth – after which Craig pushed himself up and looked over Clyde with satisfaction. "I'm surprised you didn't chicken out," he teased as he caught the last of his breath.

"It's gonna take more than that," Clyde said. Really, the line he had for getting gay with Craig had always been getting crossed out and readjusted since the very beginning six months ago, and the last six _minutes_ pushed it all the more. He still had some trepidation, sure, but when it came down to it he really had no trouble grabbing Craig's ass in both hands, giving it a good pinch just because, and pulling him down into his own arching hips.

The move totally put Craig at his mercy; he closed his eyes and whined, check it, _whined_ at the friction. Points or no, there was nothing better than getting the better of him, especially like this.

So he did it again.

"_Clyde_," Craig let out as Clyde's reward, or maybe as a little bit of revenge, from the way it shot him straight from half mast to full. Still, from what he had felt of Craig he was in a similar predicament, or at least getting there.

Deciding that he could help him with that, Clyde moved his hands from the back of Craig's pants to the front, working the button and zipper and pulling down enough to see that things didn't need to be evened up after all. Nice.

"Didn't know you had it in you," Craig said in a strangled voice as he tried to get a grip on himself, even though Clyde already had that covered.

Clyde smiled slyly. "Pretty good, right?" he said, backing it up with some practiced solo motions that ought to translate well enough. "An hour ago I wasn't even gay."

"L-Liar."

Clyde was vaguely aware of Craig's fumbling with his jeans, but it didn't process fully until he'd given up trying to unbutton them with the one hand he was using and just snuck it straight in instead. Clyde did everything in his power to _not_ stop what he was doing, close his eyes, bite on his bottom lip and utter something unintelligible at Craig's touch, but, he could admit that he wasn't the strongest person.

It didn't matter. Clyde recovered from his lapse, and almost right after, had Craig finished. He could see, hear, and feel confirmation of this, and all three made fast work of sending Clyde over the edge, collectively reeling his senses to blazing white.

It was _awesome_.

Then the elation faded, and everything they'd just done hit him with jarring impact.

"Craig," he said quietly.

Craig had collapsed – half on Clyde, half on the bed – but he shifted his head to face Clyde in acknowledgement, sobering quickly when he saw his expression. "Yeah?" he asked, with carefully controlled concern.

Clyde looked at him for a moment. He couldn't blame him. Slowly he lifted his head and pressed a kiss to his lips, simple and chaste to soften the impending blow. Then he raised a single, sullied finger. Craig may not be a chicken… but he had come first.

"One-zero."


End file.
